German Delinquents In An Irish Town

[Ilyich]

Is not fancy, yes?

Characters--
Paradox - Male - Canopus
Montenegro - Male - Martyr
Reiko - Male - Canopus

[Ilyich]

[atrb=border,0,true][atrb=cellSpacing,0,true][atrb=cellPadding,10,true] [atrb=style, background-color: #423c42;,true][cs=2][style=background-image: url('http://i1027.photobucket.com/albums/y334/IlyichCenin/Decorated%20images/9Y6D1992.jpg'); width: 500px; height: 250px; border: #fff 1px dashed;] [/style][style=font-family: times; text-align: center; letter-spacing: -2px; font-size: 30px; color: #eef4f0;]& Paradox `[/style][style=font-family: arial narrow; font-size: 9px; letter-spacing: 1px; text-align:justify; width: 620px; line-height: 8px; color: #d2c9c6;]WE AINT EVER GONNA WIN BUT IT DON'T MEAN WE CAN'T TRY IT'S A LOSING BATTLE ALL THE WAY BUT IT'S WORTH THE CRY - - - - [/style]
[atrb=width,440][style=margin-top: -10px; margin-right: -10px; border: #fff 1px dashed; padding: 5px; overflow: auto; width: 450px; height: 200px; font-family: trebuchet ms; font-size: 9px; line-height: 10px; background-color: #eaf0ec; color:#423c42;] AINT NO ROSES TO SEND ME TO THE MORGUE Pack Canopus Rank Protector Gender Male Age 4 years MAYBE DEAR YOUR COLORS DON'T SHOW Fur Color Brown with a black front and legs Eye Color Pale winter blue Scars Thin lateral pattern across top of hips. Smaller less visible scars around muzzle, chest and ears. Appearance Don't look it in the eye, not those iron hard walls of blue. Unholy in all his extremes. Don't look the snake in the face, not that black masked face. Blackness overtakes his chest, covering his heart and soul in its inky waves of brush strokes. Don't look at the brown casing the rest of his form, its just a wooden hood. Just a way to hide a broken soul. He's a devil they scream! A devil with nothing left. Don't watch as he shambles past on his broken limbs. Don't watch as he turns what should be a beggars face away in disdain. Don't look at the pain he shows! Don't look! He isn't allowed to feel it, after all he did it! That dark painted figure is the snake that led eve to the apple. AND YET IT ISN'T A SIN TO KILL THOSE YOU LOVE Power Type Spiritual Power Branch Converse with ghosts Personality He is sick. Sick of trying to pretend. Sick of playing the game. So he cheats. With a neat little flick he sends his emotions away. He doesn't care, manly because he has better things to focus on. Things of much greater importance then playing the game others stepped so carefully around. His heart means little to him, besides being the burning thing that sent him to murder. The only thing that matters to him is being him. Pleasing others is a thing he will never do.Why should he care what they think? He would happily go about life without seeing a single soul for the rest of its days if it didn't mean his untimely demise. Distraction is a thing that is no existent in his eyes. He dreams. He dreams of days when he won't have to destroy any longer. He dreams of the day he can finally tell himself that his beloved was avenged. The day he can finally complete the circle of sin by flinging himself into the grotto the original sinners walked until he killed them. But mostly he dreams of her. Of his beloved. Of his little bird. The woman who wove him in a blanket of comfort and hid him from their hate. The angel who took the snake into her heart and warmed his soul. How he misses her. How he prays she will visit him in the cell that is surly saved for him in hell. How he yearns for her, for the comfort that she gave him, for the warmth that she spread. Oh dear Devoid. Oh dear dear little sparrow. But she remains with him. A soft shadow of a spirit clutched to his side. He is far too obsessed to let her go. His emotions are a thing left trampled in the dust, and only anger remains. Possession is a thing he holds dear now. The spirit is a thing he converses with openly and with out trepidation. Let them think him mad, it only makes his goal easier. Wolves don't expect such atrocities from an innocent crazed boy. He can see her and she can speak to him. That is all that matters. He knows his hatred. He can feel it flickering inside himself. But he would not show it. Dead emotion makes up his shell. Broken and hobbled like a zombie slumping along with only one purpose. But his mind is no shell. It is a ball of lava trapped in an empty hull. He burns on the inside, though he would never let anyone know it. He has known the hatred of others for far too long to let them see his true form. They see only a brown lupe with curiously little to say. But he knows how much he hates. He knows how he will never let anything go. Paradox is sure they will all die under his fangs, but he is also sure that he will die as well. He started this. He killed her, and in the big picture he did. Self hatred runs unbounded in his head, and it only makes the flames boil. But they will never know. He will never let them know. And if they found out he would kill them. Despite this and its heavy weights flung taunt about his neck he is a good loyal man. Those that can tame what monster huddles in his form become creatures with nothing to fear. His loyalty is an iron gun loaded and aimed at his friend's enemies. His pack is a shield and Paradox recognizes that such a thing must be oiled and cared for. He works with military heed. Powerful in strategy and cruel in function. War is not a thing he enjoys. Its bloody upheaval is something that he finds revolting. Such things should be kept small in compos. Enjoyable and not exhausting in their scope. Preferences Likes * Control * Strategy * Intelligence * Ambition * Myths * Focus * Work * Details Dislikes * Helplessness * Head-on attacks * Stupidity * Weak hearts * Lies * Lethargic animals Strengths/Weaknesses Strengths * Speed * Fangs * Intelligence * Work Ethic * Determination * Focus * Perception * Very Good Liar Weakness * Obsessive * Possessive * Inability to empathize * Selfish * Crude * Lean build * Psychotic * Inability to rationalize certain things * Devoid HOW IS THERE A PAST IF NO ONE REMEMBERS NO MORE Family Parted ways with mother and father a wile back. Two brothers by the names of Syntax and Ellipses have yet to be found dead or alive. Regrets So many things. why couldn't he care for his mum properly? Why couldn't he care for Devoid properly? Hell why did he end up being the death of everyone remotely close to him? Secret Ambitions End his blood feud. Destroy those he sees as traitors and either commit a silent suicide or live with his knowledge until some revenge seeker tries to kill him. History Snake slithering from a dream. Children born to wolves who should never have mated. There is too much space between alphas and omegas. It isn't right. Isn't pure. Those three would never be anything but snakes in a birds nest. Monsters birthed by a weakling. Sikla mother! Who ever heard of such a thing? And yet and yet! The viper rose, named Coal after the darkness that hung him like a noose about his throat. And how dare they! How dare they let these monsters into the world, whatever are we to do but punish them? All of them. Taunt and snap. Don't let them live peacefully. There is no peace. But they grew, those snakes. They began to twist and slither into life. How dare they! How dare they! And then the one named Coal dared to pretend to love. How could a snake love! They wouldn't let him, especially not when they all wanted to love the female the viper sniffed at. How dare he! No snake would be allowed to touch Devoid! Devoid would be an alphess one day, and that viper wasn't allowed to touch such a beautiful being. The broke him and pressed him back. But Devoid did what they never expected. She sniffed at the vipers jaw and led him away from his earned torment. And she looked at them with hate! It was obvious the snake had broken into her brain and controlled it somehow. You see sometimes people should stay in the hole they crawled out of. The monsters who dare try to crawl from there pain should be flung back to their pit. His iron hard stare is broken, isn't that enough? She died, died at the fangs of a bandit. A bandit that ran to tell the world the oddity that was Coal had killed the woman of their dreams. He was a devil, they shrieked. A traitor. Tyrant to be killed! He kidnapped her to begin with they whispered. Jaded fool. He stooped over the body when they came, his face marked with tears and blood. Crying over his sin, they supposed. Horror wrath. There was no emotion in his eyes, after all. What sort of male wouldn't look hurt in the least about the death of such a beauty? The one who killed her obviously. Killer. Murderer. Monster. That's what she earned for picking a viper as her mate. She was bitten, and the poison turned her into a sunken skeleton of carrion. But this was good. The snake never fought back without his doe by his side. He never did! They could kill him now, no trial for him- the body was evidence enough. But he fought back! Swift as anything that viper snapped at them. He poisoned them to, sinking fangs into their throats as he screamed. It wasn't animal, that shriek. It was the call of the devil as he flung himself through heavens gates. Only a few of them got away. He went mad! Mad! A trial wouldn't happen now. Now they where lucky to find more folami the human masters had released to slide amongst. They would join up under this new rank and file! Yes! There was no tainted blood here, no pit of snakes. But they forgot. They forgot how sharp a snakes hate can be. They underestimated the expanse of his hate, and the levels of sin he would willingly skip across to sink his fangs into their souls. He wouldn't let them live, the snake. The viper would follow them. He remembered far back when he still pretended to be okay, his mother had told him something. You can not let them win. So he wouldn't. They wouldn't win. they killed his beloved. And he would kill them. One by one. He would pick them out with the silent intensity of any serial killer. He renamed himself. The wolf that hunted his own kind. He was a paradox. A thing going against nature. He had lost his instincts a long time ago. He was a monster,a viper hanging from a tree branch a tempting apple near his head. Come take it, the bait. Touch it, bite it and feel the pin prick of his fangs at your throat. A calm kiss. And then a cold death. He wanders, the monster. Wanders about the world, refusing to touch the creatures around him. He wouldn't waste his energy on his 'brothers' war. He wasn't a wolf anymore. He was a serial killer. A cannibal. A monster with a vendetta against the living who tormented the dead. And he would find them. He would play their pretty little game of death and woe and tear them all to shreds. But every game has its cover, and every beggar his hood. A sham of duty drug over the ears of a monster. Under Canopus rule the boy finds himself open to duty. It is to be expected. He is a military man. His goal is merely as deep as his glut for revenge. His pack lay deep in his mind in the form of another game. A strategies game. At the current time the snake holds no real care for them or their petty fights. He will do as he is told for the sake of himself. his games can't be ruined quiet so easily hidden away as he is. LISTEN HIGH LISTEN LOW IF YOU'RE A GENIE LET IT SHOW BUT WISHES AINT WITH US NO MORE JUST ANOTHER URBAN LEGEND WE'LL NEVER EVER KNOW [/style]	[atrb=width,140][style=margin-top: -10px; border: #fff 1px dashed; padding: 5px; overflow: auto; width: 140px; height: 200px; font-family: trebuchet ms; font-size: 9px; line-height: 10px; background-color: #eaf0ec; color:#423c42; text-align:center;] status , Done amazingness , Urm... 5 notes , "I can see through you. Inside your ugly. Ugly like me" [/style]
[cs=2][style=margin-top: -10px; font-family: arial narrow; font-size: 9px; text-align:center; color:#eef4f0; letter-spacing:1px;]TEMPLATE BY CALIFORNIA DREAMING OF CAUTION 2.0[/style]

Threads X x x

01: Lovely Bones : Nalia : Mortar Ruins
02: Death is a charade : Taboo : smoky rubble
03: Counting Bodies : Hammond / Devoid : Neverlife cemetery

Relations X x x

Nalia : just met : : who the hell are you?
Taboo : just met : : Rabbit-wolf....

[Ilyich]

[atrb=border,0,true][atrb=cellSpacing,0,true][atrb=cellPadding,10,true][atrb=style, background-color: #423c42;,true][cs=2][style=background-image: url('http://i.imgur.com/9Cxxb.png'); width: 620px; height: 300px; border: #fff 1px dashed;] [/style][style=font-family: times; text-align: center; letter-spacing: -2px; font-size: 30px; color: #eef4f0;]& Montenegro `[/style][style=font-family: arial narrow; font-size: 9px; letter-spacing: 1px; text-align:justify; width: 620px; line-height: 8px; color: #d2c9c6;]WE AINT EVER GONNA WIN BUT IT DON'T MEAN WE CAN'T TRY IT'S A LOSING BATTLE ALL THE WAY BUT IT'S WORTH THE CRY - - - - [/style]
[atrb=width,440][style=margin-top: -10px; margin-right: -10px; border: #fff 1px dashed; padding: 5px; overflow: auto; width: 450px; height: 200px; font-family: trebuchet ms; font-size: 9px; line-height: 10px; background-color: #eaf0ec; color:#423c42;] AINT NO ROSES TO SEND ME TO THE MORGUE Pack Martyr Rank Fighter Gender Male Age 3 years MAYBE DEAR YOUR COLORS DON'T SHOW Fur Color Mixture of golden brown and tawny Eye Color Sharp green Scars Long scratches along back hind legs Appearance Tall and wiry the boy isn't exactly powerful. He is however obviously athletic. His power comes from the speed imbued in long tough legs. Look closely at the glint in those hard green eyes. Those lime gems are the gateway to the soul and the glow with noble intention. He seems to be the man trying and failing to fade into the background. Its rather hard to hide such warm rippling colors. Browns fade to golden tawny and brighten into gold in a constant convergence of glory around his body. I gives the man a beauty that can not be held by someone with such a harsh edge. The constant set to him, the stiffness, gives him the appearance of a military man wrapped in an emperor's cloak. AND YET IT ISN'T A SIN TO KILL THOSE YOU LOVE Power Type Illusion Power Branch Create illusions Personality On the outside I'm a fighter Soldier with a rock-hard exterior, the man plays at military man and dose it well. His face is stoic and held at a careful level of emotionless. He flinches away from emotional situations and can not be trusted to handle such things well. He belongs in the field, waling moving fighting working. Anything to keep his mind preoccupied. Montenegro is the boy no one knows, not well at least. He keeps himself well removed, its better that way. No one can poke a hole in the iron curtain he has flung across those golden shoulders. He is the silent soldier boy with nothing to say and little to give besides his body. Its how he was raised. On the inside I'm the victim Unsure of himself and rather iffy about any decision he makes the boy tends to be very awkward in most situations. His mind is a constant vicious circle. Doubt and anger in every key. He is wrong, always wrong he had been told that from the day he was born. It is so. His father was a man who pounded his uselessness into him from day one. It only got worse when he tried to come out. His attraction towards the same gender is a thing he himself is terrified of. He lavishes women because of it. Its an almost fearful attention. In my mind I'm a slave He cares about himself in the way everyone dose, he questions his hate towards himself but never risks actually plucking at it. he thinks of himself as a coward. He was a coward. He would never forgive himself. Never. Every mistake he makes drives a nail into his brain that slowly gets drug farther in. Every hurt turned inward with the simple question of 'what did I do? How can I make it better?'. Everything is his fault. Always. Anger is faced inwardly, and on rare occasions when he dose snap the boy flings his hate in a burst of rage at anything within hurting distance. In the end its always him, and he will go off and shudder in some hidden corner and refuse to come out until the shell has been fixed. In your eyes I'm a lost soldier When pressed to respond the boy tends to become resentful and spiteful. Given time he may come around to admitting emotion, but that can be difficult. He hates being cornered about his feelings. Emotion is something he tries so hard to pretend he doesn't have that he flinches and whines away from it whenever it is brought up. The man can become violent depending on the situation. Preferences Likes-- * Acceptance * Work * His gift Dislikes-- * Regret * Hardheadedness * Emotional Situations Strengths/Weaknesses Strengths-- * Devoted * Quietly loyal * Militaristic in duty Weakness-- * No trust in self * Little social ability * Stand offish HOW IS THERE A PAST IF NO ONE REMEMBERS NO MORE Family Valaree; Mother // Fallon; Father // Tagore, Jasper; Siblings Regrets Cowardice. Inability to control emotions. Homosexuality Secret Ambitions Pull off a duty so large no one will be able to deny his usefulness History Born to a small pack to the south the boy started off in a bad spot. His father had always been extremely strict, and so loved rubbing everything in his children's noses. He blamed them for ever mishap, and their mother did nothing, her own heart long ago hardened by the man. The three pups curled upon one another for support, when the weakest, Jasper, died in a rather harsh famine during their sixth month they sobbed over it. And where punished for that. Clinging to his remaining brother's side Monti slowly began to find himself under the harsh ravings of his father. The boys found small pieces of their hearts, and with them anger. or at least Tagore did. Montenegro found self-hatred. They fought often but still hovered near one another to scared to leave the sibling that had protected their back for so long. In the end Tagore got into a war with their father and was removed from the small family pack. Left alone under his father's thumb the boy became a shell. At the age of two he found himself in a position he never wanted to go near. Finding his sexuality buried under the layers of fear the boy very weakly came out to his mother, who in turn told on him. The man was shoved into the dirt and sneered at for almost a year before in one furious rampage Monti lashed out and ran away. Now wandering around the higher pack lands he has found Martyr and in a daze has joined up. What else is he suppose to do? There is no way he could survive on his own. LISTEN HIGH LISTEN LOW IF YOU'RE A GENIE LET IT SHOW BUT WISHES AINT WITH US NO MORE JUST ANOTHER URBAN LEGEND WE'LL NEVER EVER KNOW [/style]	[atrb=width,140][style=margin-top: -10px; border: #fff 1px dashed; padding: 5px; overflow: auto; width: 140px; height: 200px; font-family: trebuchet ms; font-size: 9px; line-height: 10px; background-color: #eaf0ec; color:#423c42; text-align:center;] status , Done amazingness , 5 notes , "Go ahead and burn it down" [/style]
[cs=2][style=margin-top: -10px; font-family: arial narrow; font-size: 9px; text-align:center; color:#eef4f0; letter-spacing:1px;]TEMPLATE BY CALIFORNIA DREAMING OF CAUTION 2.0[/style]

Threads X x x

01: Title : Characters : place
02: Title : Characters : place

Relations X x x

Name : Place : Notes
Name : Place : Notes

[Ilyich]

[atrb=border,0,true][atrb=cellSpacing,0,true][atrb=cellPadding,10,true][atrb=style, background-color: #423c42;,true][cs=2][style=background-image: url('http://i.imgur.com/9Cxxb.png'); width: 620px; height: 300px; border: #fff 1px dashed;] [/style][style=font-family: times; text-align: center; letter-spacing: -2px; font-size: 30px; color: #eef4f0;]& Reiko `[/style][style=font-family: arial narrow; font-size: 9px; letter-spacing: 1px; text-align:justify; width: 620px; line-height: 8px; color: #d2c9c6;]WE AINT EVER GONNA WIN BUT IT DON'T MEAN WE CAN'T TRY IT'S A LOSING BATTLE ALL THE WAY BUT IT'S WORTH THE CRY - - - - [/style]
[atrb=width,440][style=margin-top: -10px; margin-right: -10px; border: #fff 1px dashed; padding: 5px; overflow: auto; width: 450px; height: 200px; font-family: trebuchet ms; font-size: 9px; line-height: 10px; background-color: #eaf0ec; color:#423c42;] AINT NO ROSES TO SEND ME TO THE MORGUE Pack Canopus Rank Fighter Gender male Age 3 years MAYBE DEAR YOUR COLORS DON'T SHOW Fur Color Brown Eye Color Pumpkin orange Scars unnoticeable Appearance Tall and robust the boy is a very imposing creature. He would seem to be the line backer of wolves, though his warm face wouldn't appear as such. The boy stands on tall thick limbs, and isn't exceptionally fast. His power comes from muscle and the brains. His shoulders hold the shades of rich chocolate and the color slides along his body in warm waves. It pales to a soft coco around his belly and legs, fading out to tawny at his feet. The boys eyes are the warmest part of his body. A kind pumpkin orange the colors meld into glowing rims of ginger. AND YET IT ISN'T A SIN TO KILL THOSE YOU LOVE Power Type Healing Power Branch Quickly heal minor wounds and stop bleeding Personality Calm and collected the man is a general ball of fluff. He takes everything in stride and rarely allows anything to knock him on his tail. The man is laid back and tends to be very open about his emotions. The difference comes in bad times. Reiko would never place his problems at anothers feet, and instead balls them up inside and smiles around them. It has probably started several well sized ulcers on the lining of his stomach. The man finds it hard to show his anger or pain, due to his losses during childhood. He thinks he must be the sun ray. The shining light. He must be the one others can look to and take heart. He would never be sad. He must protect them. Reiko takes his tasks seriously, and despite his warm nature can become angry enough to snap at laziness. He finds lethargy to be the most disgusting trait in the animal kingdom. Hidden away under the sometimes false smile the boy can become rather mean. He takes his release from the soft snarls that force past his teeth but other then that the rage he feels towards others simply hides. He shows his anger in other ways, spiteful ways. But that is simply how he works. Behind backs and around corners. Only those closest to him would ever be told the full extent of a plan, and those who tried to learn would be flung a rope that ends far from the whole. The boy is a strategist who would prefer to dance around war then actually start it. He will fight if the provocation is too great or the reason trumps peace. If a threat ever fell heavy over his pack mates heads he would destroy everything in his path. But should a fickle matter arise he would sooner ignore it on his path then beat it off. Reiko cares for others, truly and devotedly. He realizes that they may not like him, he isn't delusional. But he will do anything in his power to gain trust, and honor in a friend's eyes. He has no enemies only monsters at the edge of his vision that must be put down. Preferences Likes-- * Coexistence * Resourcefulness * Fishing Dislikes-- * Hatefulness * Laziness * Greed Strengths/Weaknesses Strengths-- * Power * Mercy * Strategic Weaknesses-- * Slow in speed * Mercy * Indecisive HOW IS THERE A PAST IF NO ONE REMEMBERS NO MORE Family Raven; sister Regrets Inability to save sister. Inability to stay with parents Secret Ambitions World peace -ftw- History Born to a pair of loners suddenly called a family pack the boy had an average childhood. A famine pressing through the lands became the only real altercation to that. His sister in her efforts to help her parents bring down an elk was killed in the melee. Having lost one of their pack members and unable to truly mourn in the pace of the dragging hunger the wolves moved on leaving their old pack lands. In the travel the wolves split slowly but surly. A single cub dose not remain with his parents long and when the starving hunger broke the child left. Finding himself out on his own the young male wandered in circles. He didn't really mind the silence, for a wile. But after some time he became lonely and tired of the solitude. His heart was not made for the loner life. He had no intentions of remaining alone forever. With that set in his head Reiko slowly widened his well etched circles. Finding Canopus he settled almost instantly. The pack may be awkward and harsher even then his lonely life but he was no longer alone. He had others to guard. A place to call home. It was enough. LISTEN HIGH LISTEN LOW IF YOU'RE A GENIE LET IT SHOW BUT WISHES AINT WITH US NO MORE JUST ANOTHER URBAN LEGEND WE'LL NEVER EVER KNOW [/style]	[atrb=width,140][style=margin-top: -10px; border: #fff 1px dashed; padding: 5px; overflow: auto; width: 140px; height: 200px; font-family: trebuchet ms; font-size: 9px; line-height: 10px; background-color: #eaf0ec; color:#423c42; text-align:center;] status , Done! amazingness , 5 notes , "Let me fix you" [/style]
[cs=2][style=margin-top: -10px; font-family: arial narrow; font-size: 9px; text-align:center; color:#eef4f0; letter-spacing:1px;]TEMPLATE BY CALIFORNIA DREAMING OF CAUTION 2.0[/style]

Threads X x x

01: Title : Characters : place
02: Title : Characters : place

Relations X x x

Name : Place : Notes
Name : Place : Notes